Weight Room Etiquette
by lynne-monstr
Summary: Prussia can barely move after a heavy weightlifting session and Germany takes full advantage. But tired or not, Prussia isn't one to make anything easy. (Or: Prussia and Germany at the gym. On the floor. On the mats. On the weightlifting benches.) Prussia/Germany.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: The latest Season 5 episode previews have this lovely picture of Germany and Prussia lifting weights together. Wearing my favorite black tank tops and sporting some serious arm muscles. In honor of that, please consider this a missing scene..._

* * *

**Weight Room Etiquette**

Prussia was about three seconds away from disaster.

He was at the end of his strength, fatigued muscles trembling and gloved fingers squeezing tight against the pain, trying vainly to ignore the burn eating into every fiber of his arms and just finish the damn bench-press already. Just a little bit more and he'd be done. His entire face clenched in concentration, knocking a bead of sweat from his hairline that tickled as it ran down the side of his face.

Fuck, he wasn't going to make it. He felt his arms begin to give and why the fuck wasn't West taking the bar from him!

"Hey!" he shouted. "Some help here!"

West's gaze, slack and staring, snapped to attention and suddenly the bar along with its heavy set of weights was lifted from Prussia's hands and placed back on the rack above his head.

Taking a few seconds to catch his breath, he stared at the ceiling from where he lay on the narrow padded bench, heart racing out of control from the exertion combined with the near miss of almost getting a shitload's worth of barbell dropped onto his chest. West was standing behind him, looking down at him strangely.

"What?" Prussia heaved out between heavy breaths. "I mean, I know I look good, but let's keep focused, yeah?"

He'd meant it as a joke, but the way West's eyes shot open, his cheeks flushing that barest hint of pink, was a dead giveaway that Prussia had unintentionally hit the mark. He craned his neck up further, getting a better view of West, upside down as he was from Prussia's perspective, and smiled. "West, West, West," he teased, not bothering to sit up. "What would the rest of the world think? You having such inappropriate thoughts in a public gym."

West raised an eyebrow and looked around, eyes pointedly taking in the otherwise empty room. It was a good attempt, Prussia had to admit, but they'd known each other long enough that the embarrassment was still plain to see in the tight press of his lips, the way his eyes couldn't keep from darting down to glance at Prussia to gauge his reaction.

Seeming to realize this on his own, West cleared his throat and pulled at the hem of his shirt, slowly walking around the bench so he was at Prussia's side, looming tall. "I wouldn't make such assertions if I were you," he said slowly, eyes gleaming as they swept the length of Prussia's body; from his hair and neck, damp with sweat, down the line of his necklace to the blank tank top and loose exercise shorts, and finally over the bend of his legs where they spread wide to hang off either side of the bench, feet planted flat against the floor.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Prussia only smiled wider, scooting forward so he could sit up without hitting his head on the heavy metal bar still resting on the supports at the head of the bench. "Oh yeah?" he asked, chin raised to meet West's steely gaze.

In one quick motion, West moved, straddling his lap across the bench and shoving him back down with both gloved hands. "Yes." The single word broke the air like the crack of a whip.

Prussia pushed against the weight on his chest and when that didn't work, grabbed West's wrists in each hand and tugged. But his arms, still sore and burning from the heavy lifting, barely obeyed his commands, and West – who'd been doing more spotting than lifting so far— didn't even budge at his efforts.

West gave a low chortle and leaned forward until they were practically breathing the same air, shifting his grip to clamp fingers around each of Prussia's wrists, forearms pressed against Prussia's chest to keep him from rising.

"The way I see it—" his eyes, clear and blue, danced with mirth and Prussia was transfixed, "—of the two of us, I'm the only one in a position to be making assertions."

A quirk of the lips was all the warning Prussia got before West's mouth sealed itself over his. Which was just as well, seeing as he was all out of snappy comebacks. Because West was right. It had been a good workout and his shoulders felt like rubber, his chest practically tingled with soreness, and his arms felt like they were moving on a delay. Tomorrow they'd change it up– West would be lifting and he'd be spotting—and Prussia resolved to take full advantage.

For now, he lifted his head to give better access, opened his mouth, and let West take what he wanted. The small sigh against his mouth and the feeling of hips grinding against his shorts was all it took to flare his own desire to life and before he realized what he was doing, he renewed his struggles against the grip on his wrists and the weight pinning him down. Except this time he wasn't fighting to make a point, but to bring West closer, to free his hands so he could sink his fingers into those broad shoulders, feel the muscles shift and play under his hands as they moved together.

Unfortunately, having a new motivation didn't change the outcome and the only indication West gave that he was even aware of Prussia's renewed determination was to bite at his lip, a mumbled, "Nice try, but we both know you're not going anywhere," that was as infuriating as it was arousing.

For all Prussia enjoyed relying on strength, it wasn't all he had to work with. Hell, if that was the case, he'd never have made it on the map in the first place, and so West's words sent his brain whirring into action.

Well, mostly into action. West's tongue in his mouth was pretty distracting.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips along West's jaw, lavishing the salt-tinged skin with attention, with nips and licks and tiny kisses. West's eyes were open, lust blazing beneath hooded eyelids, but still with a hint of attentive suspicion, tracking Prussia's every movement.

Good, Prussia thought. Sex didn't turn him into a total idiot.

"West." It was more a moan than a word, his voice breathy and needy as he surged forward, tugging one last time again on his wrists and straining forward as far as his pinned position allowed, grazing teeth against the lobe of one ear.

West loosened his grip, only for a moment, before he realized what was going on.

A moment was all Prussia needed. He yanked his arms free, using the extra leverage to get his hips up and roll them both off the bench.

They landed on the mats with the high slap of skin against plastic, West on his back sporting a dazed, slack jawed expression, and Prussia on his knees astride his waist, lips pulled back in the smile he couldn't be bothered to contain anymore.

To his surprise, instead of trying to throw him off, West started laughing, reaching out to pull Prussia down by the waist so their upper bodies were flush together. Prussia went willingly, but didn't relinquish the strong grip of his legs that was his only remaining leverage.

"Not bad," West conceded, fingers finding their way under Prussia shirt to rest against his skin.

"You think I need to be in top form to take you down?" Prussia gloated, grinding down to rub against the bulge he could already feel pressing maddeningly close to his own growing arousal. "Still so much to teach you," he mused, more to himself than anything. But he knew West would hear him and that only made the whole thing better.

West opened his mouth, but before he could speak Prussia pressed a finger to his lips. "Unless you're about to tell me how awesome I am, no more talking."

Without another word, he slithered down, grabbing the elastic band of West's shorts and boxers on his way and pulling them down until they were stretched across the tops of his thighs. The thought of using his hands was enough to make his already sore arms ache in sympathy, so he settled for the next best thing and wrapped his lips around the head of West's cock, swirling his tongue around the very top. He felt, more than heard, West gasp and shudder beneath him. Pulling away, he placed a chaste kiss on the tip before deciding surprise was his best weapon, and took as much into his mouth as he could in one go, wrapping his hands around the rest.

A sharp inhaled breath broke the silence, deceptively loud, and Prussia grinned around the length in his mouth, tongue and hands and lips never pausing in their assault. He sped up, just slightly, and was rewarded with a faint whine, the sound escaping from lips that were normally so very severe and controlled.

Another sound broke the silence, and this time they both froze. Because, shit, that was footsteps from around the corner, the sound of someone pacing the nearby reception area.

With his mouth occupied, Prussia couldn't let out the string of curses that came to mind, but that didn't stop him from enthusiastically running through them all in his head.

West had no such constraints, and let out a low, "Fuck," that was a whisper and a groan and curse all together. Scrambling, he bucked his hips, hands blindly reaching out to pull his shorts back up and cover himself.

Prussia gagged at the unexpected thrust, eyes watering and stinging in automatic reaction, and it was only centuries of stealth training that kept him from wheezing and hacking and drawing attention to them both. After a long beat, he got himself under control and wiped at his eyes to clear his vision, staggering forward so he was once again straddling West's lap.

"What the fuck," he hissed under his breath.

"They're going to see us," West whispered back. "Any second. Now get off."

The patter of sneakers against wood continued to sound occasionally from the reception area.

Prussia took a gamble that they at least had a minute or two, and laced fingers into blonde hair, ducking down to trace the shell of an ear with his tongue.

Beneath him, West's breath caught, corded muscles going tense.

Prussia took it as leave to continue, grinding himself down onto West's cock. "You didn't seem too bothered by getting caught before. When it was me on my back."

A choked off gasp was all the answer he got, until West swallowed deeply, entire body going tense and motionless, and fuck Prussia loved him like that, on the edge of giving in but still in control. West strained against his hold to look him in the eye, a smile breaking through the tight demeanor, and Prussia found himself smiling in return.

"That's because I know what an exhibitionist you are," West replied. His voice was a wreck, torn between desire and public decency and it made Prussia want to continue where they left off and damn the consequences.

But he knew how mortified West would be if they were caught (and searching for a new gym would be a pain in the ass), so contented himself with a teasing, "You're doing a pretty good job being one yourself today," and rolled away, springing to his feet in the same motion.

Just in time, too, as they both heard the heavy footsteps start up again, louder than before and getting closer.

West shot awkwardly to his feet and by unspoken agreement they dashed for the rack of dumbbells, each managing to get a pair in hand right as the footsteps rounded the corner and they were no longer alone.

The short, stocky build of the day manager came into view, eyes sweeping idly across the room. If the guy had any idea what they'd just been up to, he kept it to himself, simply sending a curt nod their way before ambling over to the squat racks. After a short bout of stretching, he ignored them completely and began his workout.

Riding high from a mixture of relief and anxiety, he and West faked their way through a couple quick curling reps, a half assed attempt at pretending they hadn't been about to go at it on the gym mats. Barely daring to look at each for fear they'd start laughing or worse, they hastily re-racked their weights and bolted for the exit.

Good thing West's car had leather seats.


	2. Reckless Endangerment

The moment the car's engine roared to life, Prussia fumbled for West's shorts, determined to get the damned things off him. And found himself thrown against the passenger door, arms pinned tightly to his sides.

"What are you doing?" West's voice was strained, head whipping in every direction to glance furtively out the car windows. "People can _see_ us!"

"No one's looking," Prussia argued, trying not to get distracted by the hardness poking insistently against his hip. He struggled to shift his position enough to grind against it, but fuck, West was heavy. Settling for a leering grin, he added. "And as long as you don't give the game away, there'll be nothing to see."

West scowled back at him. "Do I have to tie you down to make you behave?"

Prussia wriggled in his grasp. "That's twice today you've pinned my arms. If you want to tie me up, West, just ask. I might even say yes."

Instead of rising to the bait, West grinned and kissed the corner of his mouth. "You're incorrigible."

Prussia didn't miss a beat. "You started it." Giving up on freeing himself, he tilted his head and turned the chaste kiss into something much less innocent. For a moment there was only the clashing of their lips and tongues, underscored by the steady rumble of the car all around them.

All too soon, West released him, buckled his seatbelt, and put the car in gear.

* * *

They were speeding down an empty stretch of road when Prussia made his move.

"Alone at last," he announced, stretching his arms languidly above his head and leaning towards the driver's side, not so subtly dropping a hand into West's lap. The flesh under his palm gave an enthusiastic twitch and the car swerved dangerously, throwing Prussia across the seat to land face first where his hand had been resting, his shoulder narrowly avoiding a painful collision with the gearshift.

West cursed loudly as he jerked the wheel the other way, bringing the car under control. "What the hell do you think you're doing!" His breath came in long, heavy drags, and he looked torn between wanting to kill Prussia and wanting to jump him.

"This," Prussia replied, and lowered his mouth, teasing as much as he could through the layers of fabric. The familiar scent of musk and sweat washed over him and he groaned, pressing his entire face into the warmth in front of him.

"Prussia." The low rumble of West's voice blended with the purr of the engine. "You can't. Not—" the words ended in a choked off, guttural cry, the strong muscles of his thighs quivering as he fought to keep control. "Not here, not now."

Turning his head, Prussia placed a kiss to his stomach. "Tell me no and I'll stop."

The drone of the car and the road was his only answer.

His victory secured, Prussia braced a hand on the supple leather of the seat and sucked at the dark, wet patch barely visible against the equally dark material of the shorts. A soft gasp came from above, and he did it again, kissing and sucking at the impressive bulge.

A hand tangled in his hair and Prussia pressed into it, enjoying the fingers carding against his scalp as they coaxed him down.

He stopped, lips hovering but not touching. "Hands on the wheel, West."

The hand in his hair tightened, twisting harshly. "This is no time for games."

It was a good attempt, Prussia conceded, pausing to appreciate the burn in his scalp and the way the pain made him ache in all the right ways. But West wasn't the only one who knew exactly which buttons to be press.

"It's not a game," he replied, turning his head to peer sideways through his lashes. "It's a rule. And I know how much you like rules."

The bulge pressed near his cheek gave a sharp jump of agreement, but West didn't give in. "It's a useless rule." His eyes flicked down between the seats and back up. "I'll need to downshift eventually."

And even during a car blow job, West was as practical as ever. But that last line was more forfeit than fight and Prussia pressed on, encouraged. "Then I guess we better be quick. Keep your eyes on the road and your hands on the wheel."

There was a slight pause. Then, as expected, the hand untangled from his hair.

Prussia allowed himself triumphant grin before rewarding that bit of good behavior, freeing West's cock from his shorts and slipping a hand under the waistband. He continued to tease, sucking and licking and placing open mouthed kisses all along the shaft and head. It wasn't long until West was rocking helplessly back and forth in the seat to keep from thrusting into Prussia's mouth, heavy gasping breaths filling the air.

He wished he could see West's face, see the cheeks that had to be flushed by now, lips swollen as he bit them in a failed attempt to stay quiet. Prussia groaned at the thought and heard an answering hitch of breath as the vibrations passed from his lips to the hardness against his mouth.

The roar of the engine thrummed thick and powerful in his ears, the bumps and curves of the road requiring an intense level of concentration as he took West fully into his mouth, working him until the panting breaths turned into choked off moans and muffled grunts. Reaching out a finger, he shifted his hand farther back to press hard against the small patch of skin behind West's sac. The muscles of his legs spasmed, practically throwing them both out of the seat as West bucked desperately into his mouth.

Working quickly, Prussia wrapped his hand firmly around the base, holding tight as West jerked against him, seeking the release that was just out of reach. The car shuddered, swerving sharply before evening out.

Freeing his mouth, Prussia looked up and smiled wide. "Good thing my reflexes are better than your self-control," he teased.

West's face was even more flushed than in Prussia's imagination, eyes wide open and staring unseeingly out the front windshield, resolutely not looking down to meet his gaze. For a puzzled moment, Prussia wondered why, and then remembered.

_Eyes on the road_.

The rules.

West was still obeying the rules. The realization sent a flash of heat racing downwards and Prussia's eyes clenched shut, the need to touch himself almost unbearable. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he got himself under control. Opening his eyes, he kissed the tip of West's cock, red and swollen in his grasp, and nearly lost it all again as the rest of West's composure collapsed.

"Prussia, please…" His voice was strained, on the edge of breaking. Both hands trembled on the wheel, hips twitching and thrusting, every line of his body begging.

Prussia shifted in his seat, his own arousal settling like a haze over his mind. He moved without thinking, trailing a line of kisses up West's stomach and chest, straining as high as he could to nip at his collarbone.

Still, West didn't move, didn't turn towards him. Even like this, on the edge of oblivion, he was clinging to the last shreds of his restraint and Prussia fucking loved him for it. Brushing lips over a cloth-covered nipple , he whispered, "Please what?" He was aiming for aloof but didn't quite manage to pull it off.

It didn't matter; West was far beyond noticing, and the words sent a shiver through his entire body. "Please." He breathed deeply. "I need— please don't stop." His knuckles stood out white where his fingers clutched the wheel in a death-grip.

The road unfolded in front of them, strips of blurred green on either side broken up by the occasional road sign as they flew past. Prussia could feel every bump and jostle as he released his grip and sealed his lips around West's straining length, bobbing his head and hollowing his cheeks. It didn't take long to find a rhythm, and he'd barely started when West's thighs tensed and his entire body went rigid.

Prussia realized too late what was happening but there was no time to brace himself. With a final cry, West spilled into his mouth.

And crashed the car.


End file.
